


Give Me Your Lips That Taste of Him

by tiigi



Category: Big Time Adolescence (2020)
Genre: Age Difference, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mentioned Non Consensual Drug Use, Minor Angst, Miscommunication, Other, Size Difference, Threesome - M/M/M, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:21:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23454727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiigi/pseuds/tiigi
Summary: They’re at a party when Mo first finds out.
Relationships: Monroe “Mo” Harris/Zeke Presanti/Nick
Comments: 18
Kudos: 38





	Give Me Your Lips That Taste of Him

**Author's Note:**

> No clue how I did with Nick’s characterisation and does he even have a surname?? But hey, I hope you enjoy! :D

They’re at a party when Mo first finds out. It’s kind of typical really, because there always seems to be a party going on when all three of them hang out, but this one is different. This is not actually at Zeke’s house and Mo doesn’t even know where they are, let alone which room is the bathroom.

He’s drunk, far drunker than he’d planned to get tonight, and he thinks maybe someone slipped something in his drink when he wasn’t paying attention. Or maybe he took someone else’s drink by mistake and ruined their high, but that’s the least of his worries right about now. He needs to find a bathroom or he’s going to throw up all over the carpet and then nobody will ever invite him to parties ever again because he’ll just be Zeke’s weird teenage friend who can’t handle his alcohol. He’s already a social pariah at school - he wants to at least keep what little dignity he has left.

He’s stumbling through the hallway on an increasingly desperate search for the bathroom when he finally, blessedly finds a door that isn’t locked. He turns the handle and pushes it open with his shoulder expecting to see a toilet he can throw up into and maybe even a bathtub he can hide in for the rest of the night. Instead, he finds a spare bedroom, and two people are very much having sex in it.

Except it’s not just any old two people - that would be embarrassing enough, but at least he could give them a fake name and escape without too much shame. No, the couple he just walked in on naked in bed together is, of course, because the world fucking hates him this much, Zeke and Nick. Mo freezes, stomach churning, as they jerk away from each other and lunge for the duvet to cover themselves with.

“Oh shit,” Mo mumbles, feeling ready to throw up now more than ever. He’d known they were best friends, known they were close, were always hanging out together. He just didn’t know they were actually _together,_ and seeing them like this without any warning hits him like a punch to the stomach. It’s not just his embarrassing monster crush on Zeke, or his budding attraction for Nick either; it’s dumb really, considering Zeke and Nick are both adults with their own lives that Mo just doesn’t understand yet. 

It’s just that… Mo and Zeke have been best friends since he was _nine,_ they’ve known each other for seven years. He thought that Zeke might have _told_ him about something as groundbreaking as this. It’s not like Zeke owes him a coming out or anything, because Mo’s guilty of that secret himself, but it would have been nice to know his two best friends were hooking up.

God, he feels like an idiot. How many times has he third wheeled? How many times did he just invite himself along on what must have been their private dates? How many times did he sit in the middle of them on the couch to watch a movie and not think anything of the careless arms they both swung over his shoulders. All this time he thought they were just being friendly - now he knows they were trying to get closer to each other because this fucking annoying sixteen year old kid wouldn’t leave them alone.

“Mo?” Zeke asks, suddenly much closer, and he wonders how long he’s just been standing there, staring. He must have zoned out at some point because now his vision is focused again, he sees that Nick and Zeke are both fully clothed. Nick is posed half on half off the bed, like he might be ready to jump into action at any point if necessary, whilst Zeke is hovering right in front of Mo, his head sometimes blurring into two. Mo squints but he still can’t see them properly. There’s a dark mark chewed into Zeke’s neck that Mo wants to believe is just a drug induced hallucination.

“Mo!” Zeke tries again, capturing Mo’s face between his thumb and his forefinger and shaking him a little. “Mo, can you hear me? How many fingers am I holding up? Jesus, how much did you have to drink?”

“Nnhg,” Mo replies, completely coherent. Zeke curses.

“Did he take something?” Nick is talking now, and he’s so freakishly tall that when he pulls himself up to his full height and walks towards them, Mo almost jerks backwards in shock. Zeke tightens his grip until Mo’s cheeks are squished together.

“Momo, did you take something?” Then there’s someone pulling his eyelid up - when did it slip shut? - and examining his pupil. The light hurts his eyes and Mo winces.

“He’s definitely high,” Nick determines, ruffling Mo’s hair. Then, “Mo? You doing alright, buddy? You don’t look so good.”

Mo wants to reply. He really does; he wants to demand some answers about their relationship and how long it’s been going on and why they didn’t tell him, and he wants to ask them to take him home and maybe sleep with him a little bit as well, but in the end he can’t do any of that. He opens his mouth to speak, lurches to the side and throws up into a conveniently placed trash can. 

“Motherfucker,” Nick says succinctly. Mo has to agree.

“Shit,” Zeke mutters, getting down onto his knees next to Mo and rubbing his back comfortingly. “Okay, Mo, let it all out. _His parents are gonna fucking kill me._ Yeah, that’s it, you’re alright. Here– help me get him up, would you?”

“Mo?” Mo doesn’t realise that Nick is addressing him until his name has been repeated about three times. His head feels like it’s been stuffed full of cotton wool but he’s on an empty stomach now so he’s probably safe to move. “You gonna throw up on us if we carry you?”

“Nuh uh,” Shaking his head makes the room spin precariously so he stops and just clings onto Zeke’s forearm instead. Nick pries his fingers away gently and before Mo really knows what’s happening, he’s being lifted into the air. His arms flail around a bit before Zeke is next to him, holding his wrists together to stop him from freaking out. 

“Easy, easy, Mo.” He says soothingly. Mo doesn’t want to notice it but now that his face is squished into Nick’s chest, he can’t help but smell Zeke all over him. Zeke’s lips are red and kiss bruised - his fly is undone. For a moment, Mo thinks he might pop a boner right there in Nick’s arms, because it’s as appropriate a place as any, but he’s too drunk for that, and the residual hurt about being kept in the dark has him totally turned off.

“You good to drive?” Zeke asks, keeping up with them despite Nick taking stupidly big strides. He still hasn’t let go of Mo’s wrists and his thumb is rubbing circles into Mo’s skin, but it’s probably just because he’s feeling guilty about leaving Mo alone to get drugged by accident.

“Yeah, man.” Nick replies, which does not inspire confidence but Mo isn’t exactly in a position to argue. 

They lay him down in the backseat and Zeke slides in next to him, arranging Mo’s head carefully on his lap and tugging the safety belt over his horizontal body anyway. Mo shifts slightly so that his forehead is firmly pressed against Zeke’s thigh; memories of what he walked in on flash behind his closed eyes. He hadn’t seen much and he’ll most likely forget it all when he wakes up tomorrow, but the brief flashes of bare skin, tattoos on display that Mo doesn’t think he’s ever seen before…

He lets out a whimper and doesn’t even know if it’s from arousal or discomfort.

“He’s not gonna throw up back there, is he?” Nick calls, thankfully keeping his eyes on the road. Zeke’s fingers card through Mo’s hair and scratch lightly at his scalp; there’s something so relaxing and familiar about it that it has his eyes slipping shut and his breathing evening out.

“Nah,” Zeke says quietly, fondly. His fingers scratch behind Mo’s ear. “He’s good.”

He never actually finds out what happens after that - the next thing Mo knows, he’s waking up on Zeke’s couch, Nick is gone, and there’s a glass of water waiting for him on the table along with two small, white pills. He makes sure that they’re just aspirin before he takes them because knowing Zeke they could just as easily be ecstasy. His head still feels like someone drilled a hole in it and he has the faint idea that something awful happened last night…

Then it all comes flooding back to him. The party, the bedroom, _Zeke and Nick._ Mo sits up straight so quickly that the room spins and he has to steady himself with a hand on the arm of the sofa. He presses the cool glass to his cheek to cool down and then swallows both pills with a gulp of water. He can hear running water so he figures Zeke must be in the shower. He wonders if Nick is here as well, if he spent the night on the floor or in bed with Zeke. Shit, maybe he’s in the shower with Zeke right now. Mo should probably leave.

He gets as far as the front door before he realises he has no way of getting home. He shared a lift with Zeke and Nick last night, he has no cash in his wallet and he’s nowhere near well enough to walk the distance home right now. He lowers himself onto the sofa again with a sigh and curls up, wondering if it’s possible to erase twenty four hours from everyone’s memory. He really doesn’t want to face the oncoming chat.

“Oh, hey,” Zeke’s voice startles Mo, and he peers over the arm of the couch to see Zeke with a towel wrapped around his waist. Rivulets of water are making their way lazily down his stomach and his hair sticks to his forehead. He’s so attractive that it hurts, and now that Mo has seen him naked in bed - with another guy, ouch - it’s going to be impossible not to see that every time they hang out. 

“You’re awake,” Zeke comes closer and sits down next to Mo. Mo struggles upright and does his best not to freak out over Zeke’s wet skin pressed against Mo’s arm. 

“Apparently,” he replies grumpily. He’s feeling better physically, but emotionally he’s still scarred from seeing his two best friends fucking and having his first thought be, ‘please god let me join in.’

“You alright? You went hard last night.” He sounds concerned, and before Mo might have taken this as evidence of Zeke’s affection for him. Now though, he knows how dumb that is: just proof of a stupid schoolboy crush. Zeke is with _Nick_ now, and Nick is with Zeke, and he can’t have either of them. He shouldn’t stick around if he’s just going to be creeping on them all the time.

Zeke must sense his misery because he bumps his shoulder against Mo’s. “Mo? You still high?”

“No,” Mo sighs, although he wishes he was. “Someone put something in my drink, I think. I dunno. I was kind of fucked up.”

“Yeah,” Zeke draws out the word and Mo’s heart sinks. He isn’t surprised that Zeke doesn’t make a big deal of his drugged drink. He is surprised that Zeke wants to have this conversation now. “About that.”

“Uh oh,” Mo murmurs, but it goes unheard. “Is Nick here?”

“No,” Zeke says instantly, defensively. Mo looks down at his own knees intently, wringing his hands in his lap. “Shit, Mo, I don’t know what to say. You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“Oh,” Mo says, hurt. That’s probably the worst thing Zeke could have said. Mo would have understood regret, he would have understood an apology, he would have understood anger and yelling and frustration, but for Zeke to straight up tell him that they didn’t want him to know? That shit hurts. 

“Fuck,” Zeke grinds the heels of his palms into his eyes and leans against the back of the couch. “Mo, it’s really not like that. Whatever you’re thinking, just… no. We’re not a fuckin’ couple or anything. I mean, we’re not _exclusive.”_

“Okay,” Mo mumbles, and now Zeke is just being mean. That’s an unfair assessment, he realises, because there’s no way for Zeke to know about Mo’s big dumb crush on him, but the last thing Mo wants to hear about is how much sex Zeke and Nick have with each other _and_ with other people. Shit, maybe Zeke _does_ know about Mo’s crush and he’s taking this opportunity to hammer home the point of ‘we don’t want to sleep with you, specifically’.

“Do you get what I’m saying, Mo?” Zeke’s fingers are in Mo’s hair again all of a sudden and this is something they’ve done a lot in the past, it’s never been weird before, but it feels weird now. It feels cruel. Zeke is taunting him now, showing him what he can never have, making Mo acknowledge their lack of interest in him. His heart thuds in his chest and Mo feels like he’s either going to throw up or start sobbing, maybe both, probably at the same time.

“Yeah!” He exclaims eventually, standing up so suddenly that his knees hit the table and send it shuddering. Water sloshes over the rim of his glass and onto the magazine covers its resting on. “I need to get home.”

“What?” Zeke watches him, baffled, eyes darting between Mo and the table. “Mo? Are you… okay?”

“Totally,” Mo nods, over enthusiastic. “Completely fine. Just… if I don’t get home soon, my parents will kill me.”

They’re both silent for a moment, and Mo is trying to figure out what he’s done wrong to leave Zeke speechless like this, because he looks a little like Mo just slapped him and spat in his drink or something. Then Zeke nods slowly, scratches the back of his neck and stands up.

“Okay, cool.” He says. “Let me just get dressed and then I’ll drive you home. Feel free to tell your parents it was my bad, yeah?”

He disappears into the next room before Mo can reply. Mo is too full of nervous anticipation to sit down again so he paces the room instead until Zeke returns, hair still damp but now clothed, dressed in a sweater and some baggy jeans. Mo wants to slide his hands under the sweater, over Zeke’s abs and up to his chest. He blinks and swallows the desire back with another sip of water.

“Ready to go?” Zeke asks, uncharacteristically quiet. Mo just nods and wraps his arms around himself, unsettled. The car journey is quiet and tense. They’re both clearly thinking about what happened, about their earlier conversation, and neither of them know how to break the awkward atmosphere that has settled over their friendship. By the time they arrive at Mo’s house he’s actually looking forward to getting out of the car, something that has never happened before.

He has to say something before he leaves though, has to acknowledge what’s happened or he feels like this pervading discomfort will follow him about like a personal black cloud. He takes one lasting look at Zeke before he’s climbing out of the car and poking his head back in.

“Listen, man,” he says quickly, eager to get it over with. “Don’t worry, okay? I won’t mention it.”

Zeke frowns, confused. “What?” He asks, leaning towards Mo when Mo leans backwards. “Wait– Mo, what? Mo!”

But Mo has already crossed the front lawn and made his way up to the door, ready for his parents’ lecture. When he looks back, Zeke is gone.

***

Things mostly go back to normal after that. Mo hangs out with Zeke and Nick and he tries to pretend like he doesn’t know what they get up to when he’s not around and they pretend they don’t know what he’s thinking about whenever they’re together. Maybe they genuinely don’t know, but Mo doesn’t think even Nick is that clueless.

He sticks to parties that Zeke throws, though. After getting grounded for two weeks because of the last one he went to, not to mention everything that transpired, Mo decides it’s time to take a break from hard partying. Instead, he’ll sit back and try to watch TV while everyone else does their thing.

It’s a time like this that the next life changing thing happens. Mo is sharing the sofa with a couple that only seem to want to make out; he’s on his phone so that he doesn’t look like a hopeless, friendless loser because Zeke and Nick disappeared half an hour ago and if he thinks too hard about what they might be doing, his brain will explode. Nobody has bothered him all evening because nobody knows him - just like in school, they look right past him, and if anybody _does_ happen to notice him, all they see is a bored teenager who definitely shouldn’t be allowed to drink the beer he’s got in front of him.

And then, someone sits next to him.

Mo looks up, surprised, hoping to find Zeke come to rescue him. Instead he sees a stranger, an attractive stranger, with messy blonde hair and tattoos and a drink in his hand.

“You want?” He has to shout over the sound of the music, so he leans in real close to ask. Mo can feel the guy’s breath against his ear and he shivers despite himself. This might be the closest thing to flirting Mo has ever done and he hasn’t even said anything yet.

“I’ve got one!” Mo yells back, cheeks flushing warm at the way the guy cups Mo’s elbow. “But thanks!”

“No problem!” Mo expects him to leave after that, but instead he forces his way in between the couch and the table, sitting in between Mo and the couple making out. The extra person makes it an even tighter squeeze and the entire left side of Mo’s body is pressed flush to this guy’s right. He’s thankful for the loud music when the man lays a hand on his thigh and he makes an embarrassing, high pitched squeaky noise. It’s not his fault though - with his fingers splayed, this man’s hand completely encircles Mo’s leg. Who’s _not_ into that?

“So, what are you doing here all alone?” The man asks, and this time he’s so close when he speaks that his lips brush Mo’s ear. Mo shudders, and their bodies are touching so there’s literally no way he can hide his reaction. “Did your friends ditch you or something?”

The guy reeks of weed so he’s definitely stoned and Mo really doesn’t have room for any more attractive stoner guys in his life, but what’s he going to do? Turn down the one person who has seemed interested in him all evening?

“Something like that,” Mo admits. “But I’m having a better time now that–” He never gets to finish his sentence. The attractive stranger is yanked away from him suddenly and Mo watches in a stupor as Nick climbs into the empty space.

“Fuck off, dude,” he yells. Mo figures the stranger can’t have been that into him, because he just holds his middle finger up at Nick and slinks back into the crowd. He even takes his drink with him, the asshole.

“Mo, dude,” Nick throws an arm around his shoulders and leans in real close in what is almost a parody of how Mo had just been sitting with the other guy. He silently wills his dick to stay down and swallows past a lump in his throat. “You can’t be flirtin’ with guys like that, alright? You didn’t drink anything he gave you, right?”

“What?” Mo asks dumbly, too embarrassed at the prospect of Nick having watched him flirt to fully understand how close he was to potential danger. “Dude, I wasn’t flirting! What the _fuck?”_

Nick just throws his head back and laughs. His earring dangles low and glints when it catches the light. He’s beautiful, and Zeke is beautiful and they make a beautiful couple and they made it obvious that they didn’t want Mo to have anything to do with it.

“C’mon, kid, relax.” Nick rolls his eyes, and that, for some reason, just makes Mo angry. It’s not fair of him to get mad at Nick for being with Zeke, but he’s still pissed off all the same. “You know I’m not gonna fuckin’ judge you. You just gotta be careful who you hook up with, alright?”

It’s the first time in almost a month that he’s heard either of them refer to what happened at that party, and it has him lashing out unfairly without even thinking about what he’s going to say.

“Oh, yeah? Were you careful?” Everyone is too close all of a sudden. He stands up, and then he’s standing and yelling at Nick and he’s fairly sure Nick would never actually hurt him but it’s still a scary situation to be in. “You must have been, to keep it quiet. Right?”

“Mo,” Nick stands up as well and fuck, he’s so much taller than Mo. Mo barely comes up to his shoulders and he has to crane his neck to look Nick in the eye. He’s gotten used to always being the short friend around Zeke already, but Nick is even taller still and he never even stood a chance.

“Do you have a problem with me, man?” Nick asks, eyes narrowed. Mo thinks he really might cry.

“Fuck you,” He says stubbornly. He’s said it a million times before and it has always been a joke, but this one isn’t and he knows Nick knows that. His expression goes tight and unforgiving; he reaches out and hooks a finger under the neck of Mo’s t-shirt, dragging him through the crowd and into Zeke’s bedroom. It’s empty, and Mo doesn’t know whether that’s a good thing or not.

“Listen to me, Mo, fuckin’ listen, alright? I don’t know what your problem is, ‘cause you won’t fucking tell either of us. Be pissed at me all you like, but don’t fuckin’ take drinks from strangers, alright? That’s a dumb fucking move.” He has Mo pressed up against the wall, crowds him in with an arm on either side of his face. Mo is definitely hard now, and upset, a few seconds away from bursting into tears. He feels like he’s being told off by his teacher, except Nick is his friend and his crush and that makes it a thousand times worse.

“I don’t have a problem,” Mo insists, in the smallest, most pathetic voice he’s ever heard. Nick scoffs, and then he’s ducking his head and pressing his lips to Mo’s.

Mo inhales sharply and opens his mouth on instinct; Nick takes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside and slide it against Mo’s. He tastes like weed and it’s gross, but he’s also Nick so it’s insanely hot. He wraps a hand around Mo’s waist and uses the other to cup his face. He presses his thumb into the hinge of Mo’s jaw so that his mouth opens wider and he kisses him, wet and filthy, turning Mo’s face whenever he wants a different angle. It’s devastatingly hot to be manhandled like this.

Mo can feel Nick’s cock against his hip, hard, and when Nick rocks their hips together Mo’s brain whites out. Mo has to pull away because he forgot to breathe, and his pulse is racing, having Nick so close to him, turned on _because_ of him.

“What…” he starts to say, pauses, swallows, tries again. “What about Zeke?”

“What about me?” Zeke says from the open doorway, and Mo yelps in surprise. Nick keeps him pinned to the wall as Zeke closes the door and locks it behind himself. Then he takes in the scene in front of him, nodding appreciatively. 

“You good, Momo?” He asks, watching Mo intently for an answer. Mo is so confused that he’s sure his mouth is hanging open, so embarrassed because he knows his dick is hard and tenting his jeans. They’ve both seen it, both seen him, looked inside and pulled out all his secrets and his insecurities.

“What?” Mo breathes, hips still twitching forward from the sudden surprising loss of pressure against his cock.

“Are you okay, Mo?” Zeke says again, clearer this time. “Nick’s a mean motherfucker but he’ll stop if you want. We both will, always, alright? All you have to do is say so.”

“I…” How is Mo supposed to respond to that? His world has been tipped upside down and he’s still not sure if this isn’t just another elaborate wet dream of his, but Nick feels very real pressed up against him, and when Zeke reaches out to pet his hair, that feels real as well.

“I’m good,” Mo says eventually, wide eyed, waiting. Nick grins, bares his teeth, predatory. Mo goes easily when they lead him over to the bed and push him flat on his back. Zeke crawls overtop him and he loses sight of Nick momentarily, but it’s okay because then Zeke is kissing him and he’s completely different about it. He’s softer, slower, deeper. He takes Mo’s breath away.

“Shit,” Zeke says, pulling back to kiss down Mo’s neck. “Wanted this for so fucking long, Mo, you’ve got no idea. When you walked in on us… fuck, I wanted to fuck you so bad. Wanted both of us to fuck you.”

Mo whines and arches his chest up against Zeke’s mouth when his lips trail further down. He pushes Mo’s shirt up to his neck and licks the flat of his tongue over Mo’s nipple.

“We can’t fuck him now,” Nick speaks again from somewhere in the room. The bed dips and Mo relaxes. “There are too many people. He’s a fuckin’ screamer, I can tell.”

“I know,” Zeke grumbles, biting down suddenly. Mo’s body jerks like he’s been electrocuted and he bites his lip so that he doesn’t give Nick the satisfaction of being right. 

“How about this, then,” Nick’s fingers rub over Mo’s lips before slipping past them and sliding over his tongue. Mo sucks them just to hear Nick’s whispered cursing, and bites gently at the tip of his index finger as he pulls it out.

“Zeke, you suck him off, I’ll fuck his mouth. Does that sound good?”

“Sounds good to me,” Zeke grins against Mo’s skin. “How about you, Momo? That sound good to you?”

All he can do is nod desperately. He’s never had his dick sucked or sucked anyone else off and they both know that, but he’s glad his first time is going to be with them. Nick swings a leg over Mo’s chest so that he’s straddling him and he hasn’t even undressed, just unzipped his fly and pulled his dick out of his pants. It’s intimidatingly big, just like the rest of him, but Mo can hardly focus on that when Zeke’s palm settles over Mo’s cock and rubs up and down in slow, firm motions.

“Hit me if you wanna tap out,” is all the warning Nick gives, and then he’s parting Mo’s lips with his fingers and fucking inside. Mo’s lips stretch around Nick’s cock and it feels so strange, so new, that he moans and sucks once, twice. Nick’s hips jump forward and Mo gags, but Nick doesn’t pull out so Mo just breathes through his nose and keeps going. Precome smears over his tongue, bitter and salty, and he winces, but it’s so hot that there’s no way he’s telling Nick to stop.

And then something wet and warm and tight envelops his own dick and he realises that it’s Zeke’s mouth - Zeke is sucking him off. He’s good at it as well, rubs the flat of his tongue over the head of Mo’s cock and dips the tip into Mo’s slit and strokes the base with a firm, tight grip. Mo moans around Nick’s cock helplessly, which in turn has Nick fucking his mouth faster, more desperate. The denim of his jeans brushes against Mo’s chin with each thrust. 

“Shit,” Nick says, panting, losing composure. “Whatever you’re doing, Zeke, keep doing it. He looks so fucking good like this. Gonna come on his face.”

Mo can’t take it anymore. He’s a virgin - like, he hadn’t even _kissed_ anybody until tonight - and he’s with the two people he likes most in the world. His heart feels so full and he’s so hard and when Zeke pulls off just to rub the tip of Mo’s cock back and forth over his bottom lip, Mo comes with a stifled whimper around Nick’s cock. 

Zeke strokes him through it and Nick pulls out, working his own dick until he goes tense and he’s coming all over Mo’s face. He leaves sticky ropes of come over Mo’s mouth and his cheek and there’s even some in his hair that he’ll have to wash out in the shower tomorrow before he goes back home. He feels gross and exhausted and incredible.

Nick leans down to kiss him quickly, fucking Mo’s mouth with his tongue and tasting his own come on Mo’s lips, before he pulls back and makes room for Zeke.

“Mo,” Zeke whispers. Mo feels Zeke’s hand brushing his stomach rhythmically and he guesses that he’s jerking off. That doesn’t seem very fair, considering both he and Nick got a blowjob, so he bats Zeke’s hand away and jacks Zeke’s dick himself. The angle is all wrong and there’s not enough wetness to make the slide easier, but Zeke presses his forehead against Mo’s shoulder and fucks into the tight circle of Mo’s fist anyway, so it can’t be that bad.

When he comes, he bites into the meat of Mo’s shoulder even with the t-shirt on. There’s going to be an impressive hickey there tomorrow that he’ll have to hide from his family, but he’ll also definitely be jerking off to it for the next week or so. 

Zeke rolls off him and they lay there, side by side by side, catching their breath. Zeke’s bed is not big enough for three people, especially not people as big as Nick and Zeke, so it’s a little cramped and Mo lets himself be spooned to make extra room. He doesn’t know whose hand is whose when they stroke down his bare arm and through his hair, but it doesn’t matter. He closes his eyes and relaxes. He’s safe here.

Both his hand and his face are covered in come, his throat is sore and he’s completely spent. There’s still a party going on in the room next door but he knows they’ll all lose interest and filter out soon enough, and then it will just be Zeke, Nick and Mo all on their own. 

They should talk about this, sure, and discuss what the fuck just happened because honestly Mo isn’t one hundred percent certain, but he’s still happier than he’s been in a long time. 

“Mo?” Zeke whispers, lips against his ear. Mo hums in acknowledgement, all he can do right now. “You’re thinking too hard. Go to sleep.”

“Both of you go to sleep, idiots.” Nick complains from where he’s wrapped around Zeke’s body. “I’m fuckin’ tired.”

Mo hides his grin in the dark. 


End file.
